When I'd returned home from the office after allowing law enforcement to go through Harrison's computer, I'd reached my limit of interacting with people. I'd started a casserole for lunch. I'd searched recipes online in order to find something quick to make. Once I'd done that, I'd put my mask on and headed up to my bedroom. Harrison had pretended to sleep and badly, the pace of his breathing had given him away. Last night I had allowed him to settle into his new room. I'd treated him kindly and even dressed him.
Today was about learning his new role in our home. He'd taken the paddle beautifully. His screams and whimpers were perfect. When my penis had hardened, I'd waited for it to deflate as soon as his punishment ceased. I'd even prolonged his training so that I could enjoy the strangeness of the situation. To my shock, my length hadn't softened, and the ache was pleasurable.
I hadn't planned to reward him, but I wanted to test his tightness around my fingers, and I found jacking his cock enjoyable. My intent wasn't to gift him pleasure, that didn't give me the experience I required. Pain and humiliation were so much more complex sensations. Pleasure was fleeting—a momentary respite. For an unwanted moment, I had imagined replacing my fingers with my length. Coming was such a vulgar act, sharing bodily fluids with someone else. There was sweat and seed.
While I'd attempted sex before, I stopped when I didn't find anything appealing about the process. He tempted me, and when I'd exposed myself, he'd turned away. Something had flared hot in my chest, and I forced him to clean up his mess. I'd left him alone for hours allowing him time to think, but it was time for lunch. First, he was going to give me something.
I made my way upstairs to find him curled on his side beneath his blanket. The tie on my dresser caught my attention, and I grabbed it, then approached him. I leaned forward and ripped the cover from him, and he jerked away, pressing his back to the footboard of my bed. Without giving him a warning, I looped the tie around his throat. I wrapped the silk in my fist until it was tight around his neck, a turn of my wrist would tighten it further to control him.
He stared up at me with wide, frightened eyes, and when I started to undo my pants, I saw the second realization filled his gaze. I fisted my hand around the base of my cock and removed it from my pants. It was flushed with blood, the veins stood out starkly and fluid beaded at the slit. I painted his lips with precum. His breath was a warm caress across the damp head.
“Suck me,” I ordered, and I waited out the indecision I observed on his face.
“I've never—”
“You only need to know how to take mine.”
He opened his mouth, his tongue peeked out, and at the first lick, my length jerked. I barely kept in a groan.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
He did as I ordered, and I placed my fat head on his tongue, tapping it then pushing forward to give him a few inches. I paused taking in the wetness and heat, the texture of his tongue and palette, the softness of his lips and the coarseness of his beard. I pulled the tie until his mouth opened wider on a gasp and gave him more. While I debated whether to fuck his face and teach him a lesson or draw it out to analyze the newness, I slid slowly over his tongue.
I didn't know how to react. I was feeling, and it was too foreign. I released my dick and tied the strip of fabric around one of the slats of the footboard until I knew he wouldn't be able to move. Stepping forward, I planted my feet on either side of his legs and took his head in my hands. The strands of his hair felt like raw silk against my wrists. His lips were stretched tight around my girth. As I started a slow thrust and retreat, I never took my attention from his expression. I cataloged every gag, the saliva that ran from the corners of his mouth and his grunts when the head tapped the back of his throat.
Occasionally I would pull him forward until the tie tightened and restricted his breathing, I didn't relent until he frantically tapped my thigh. The slender muscles in my thighs contracted until they shook and I continued to fuck his face. I waited for the graze of teeth or him taking advantage, because like this, he was more in control than I was. He had every opportunity to hurt me. I dropped my head back as I increased my pace, restricted his breathing, and repeated until the nasty, wet sounds of my cock fucking his throat became all I could hear.
I'd never felt anything like it, and I barely kept myself under control until I felt and heard his first moan. I jerked my head up to stare down at him and found his eyes closed, and he sucked loudly as I tried to pull out. The strength drawing me back in and I noticed he even choked himself to get at my cock. He was drooling, grunting and gagging, it turned louder and messier every time he tightened the tie around his own throat.
“Is that what my boy wants?”
I didn't recognize my own voice since it was deeper and harsher. I curled my hands around his throat, pressed my thumbs tight to either side of Harrison’s windpipe until his breathing was only a rasp from his throat.
“Such a good little slut. You want sir's cum. So greedy for it.”
I released his throat, and he choked as he tried to breathe in around my cock, then he drew ragged breaths through his nose. My sac drew up tight, and I was done playing with my boy, I held his head in place and fucked his mouth until I thrust forward all the way. His beard tickled my nuts, and his nose was buried in the hair at my groin. I came so hard my body curled forward, and my frame jerked with each pulse. I shallowly ground against his mouth and didn't stop until the pleasure ebbed.
“Grab the footboard, now,” I ordered as I pulled out and dropped to my knees.
I ripped the front of his pants down until the fabric was tucked under his hairy balls. When I laid my forehead to his, I started to jack his cock that looked red and angry making him whimper, and I loathed the leather of my gloves that kept me from feeling his skin. Without thought, I moved in close enough to wrap both our dicks in my hand. The skin along his length was hot and soft. It only took him a few strokes, and his release covered my hand and head of my cock. I suddenly realized I found his scent pleasant. His body was twice as broad as mine. His own length was shorter and slenderer than mine. His body was covered in hair and I…liked it in comparison to my hairless one.
My head was too full of information and details. Too many scents. I untied him and lifted my hand to his mouth.
“Clean up your mess, boy.”
He seemed in a trance or as if he'd come out of deep sleep. He didn't rush the cleaning of my glove, as he sucked two fingers into his mouth, I remembered what it felt like around my penis.
I needed to think. I unlocked Harrison’s shackle, helped him to his feet and took him to the bathroom to clean up. Fifteen minutes later, I had him seated at the island in my kitchen and served him food and drink. He had yet to say a word, and I didn't complain. I required quiet to work through the new developments.
He ate his food slowly as I drank a glass of water. He refused to look at me, and I wondered if he were as confused as I was. He was supposed to take my punishment. Take care of my home, and when he had agreed that he was mine, I would return him to civilization but not until he pledged himself to me. He was greedy, silently begging me for everything I gave him.
Keeping him was only supposed to be temporary, and in a matter of days, something had changed. I needed to figure out what it was because I didn't like loose ends. Everything needed to be in its place. My routine was key to existing. He had perplexed me, and I didn't like it. It didn't fit.
Harrison, my assistant, was shy, silent and frightened of me. But my captive was greedy, and he was beginning to find pleasure in the pain. Was he leading me into a false sense of security or did he want to remain as mine—my thing to care for and use for pleasure I wasn't supposed to feel.
I turned away to refill my glass, and I felt his gaze on me in the sensation of the hairs lifting on the back of my neck. Did he plot even now to escape? He would be mistaken if he thought I'd ever free him. He was mine, and I would prove it in pain and pleasure, I owned him. Would always own him. If pain was what he needed, I was the one to give it to him.